


Off the Menu

by Bexless



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-30
Updated: 2011-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-21 23:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bexless/pseuds/Bexless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kris needed every extra minute he could get, which was why he was in Starbucks at eight-thirty at night, trying to absorb wakefulness from the menu board through the power of his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off the Menu

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trycatpennies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trycatpennies/gifts).



> For incendiary, who wanted an Adam/Starbucks ficlet, basically. Uhhhh this did not come out exactly like you asked for, my lovely, but I hope you like it anyway. ♥
> 
> Many thanks to Olivia Circe for beta!

Kris didn’t normally drink coffee in the evening. Or, he might drink _coffee_ , but it wouldn’t have caffeine in it, or if it did it wouldn’t be the size of his head. With an ever-shrinking window of time until the album had to be wrapped, though, and only so many hours in the day, Kris needed every extra minute he could get, which was why he was in Starbucks at eight-thirty at night, trying to absorb wakefulness from the menu board through the power of his mind.

Seriously the guy in front of him was taking like nine hundred years to order, and Kris wasn’t the kind of person who huffed or shuffled or made a fuss when someone held up a line, but if he had been that kind of person he would have been coughing up a real meaningful storm right about now. He settled for shifting from foot to foot and staring holes in the back of the guy’s head instead, and finally, _finally_ the guy moved off to wait for his drink, and Kris stepped eagerly up to the counter.

“Venti pumpkin spice latte to go,” he stumbled out, then added, “uh, please. Please, sorry,” and then, “and hi, and everything,” and gave the barista an awkward little wave.

“Hi,” she said, grinning and peering at Kris over the top of her glasses. “Man, you look like you’d down a couple of super-ventis if we offered them.”

“You should,” Kris said fervently. “I would come and buy one every day.”

She laughed, and grabbed a cup from the stack. “Name?” she said, waggling her Sharpie at him. Kris told her, and she wrote it on the cup before calling his order over her shoulder. “Five-forty,” she said, pressing some buttons on the register. Kris paid her and smiled his thanks, then wandered down to the end of the counter to wait.

There were two girls at a table in the corner, folding napkins into flowers and taking pictures of each other holding them and making faces. Kris watched them for a while, biting his lip so he wouldn’t laugh when one of them bust out with a scary-accurate Marlon Brando impersonation.

“Is your blender working?” said whoever was at the counter now. They sounded kind of panicked. Kris could relate. Then they said, “Oh thank _God_ , it’s broken in the place around the corner and if I don’t get a frappuccino in me in the next ten minutes I am going to _die_ ,” and Kris laughed and turned around, because he knew that voice.

Adam was standing with his hands shoved in his back pockets, chewing his lip and frowning at the menu board. “You guys have soy milk?”

“Yup,” said the barista.

“Hmmmm,” Adam said, really dragging it out like that made a difference to his order. He put one hand under his chin and tapped his finger against his mouth. Kris smothered a laugh in his sleeve.

The barista kind of squinched her eyebrows, but told Adam, “Take your time.”

“Venti pumpkin spice latte for Kris!” yelled the other barista, bringing Kris’ drink to the end of the counter.

Kris thanked him and took the cup, prized the top off and took a deep, blissful gulp. “Mmm,” he said, wriggling his toes to get the caffeine down there faster, then turned around to see Adam smiling all over his face.

“Well _hi_ ,” he said, sliding his sunglasses off and folding them up. He put his hands on his hips.

“Hi,” said Kris. He was smiling back so hard he almost couldn’t blow on his coffee to cool it down some more. His mouth didn’t want to stop stretching itself out.

“Hi,” said Adam again. He held out his arm and beckoned, and Kris went over to him and pressed in against his side. “It’s been forever,” said Adam, putting his arm around Kris in a way that didn’t block Kris’ mouth from his coffee.

“It has not,” Kris said, but he knew what Adam meant. They were in the same city, doing the same thing, at the same studio building a lot of the time, but still. Their schedules were...well. It wasn’t the same. Adam still smelled exactly like himself, Kris noticed.

“It’s so weird,” Adam said, giving Kris an extra little squeeze before he let go. “You are so the last person that I expected to bump into here.”

“We’re like a block from the studio,” Kris pointed out.

Adam shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Come to any major life decisions?” the barista said then, leaning on the counter and looking expectantly at Adam.

“Oh!” said Adam, “I have! I’d like a venti soy strawberries and cream frappuccino with a double shot of espresso, half-caf no whip. Please,” he added, with a flash of his big bright smile.

The barista blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry, was that too fast?” Adam said earnestly, in the way Kris knew wasn’t earnest at all.

“Venti soy strawberries and cream frappuccino with a double shot of espresso, half-caf no whip,” the barista rattled off, even faster than Adam had said it. “I heard you. That’s a summer flavor.”

“It was summer last time I was here,” Adam pouted. “It’s LA! It’s always summer!”

“ _Last_ summer,” the barista stressed. “You’re ordering from two thousand and eight.”

“Well, it made an impression!” said Adam.

“Evidently,” said the barista. She picked her Sharpie up. “And you want a half-caf double shot in your non-coffee frap from last year?”

Adam tossed his head. “You know what,” he said airily, “if you can’t do it-”

“I didn’t say that!” the barista cut him off. “Venti soy strawberries and cream frappuccino with a double shot of espresso, half-caf no whip it is,” she said determinedly. “Anything else?”

Adam wrinkled his nose, considering. He turned to Kris. “What do you have?”

“Venti pumpkin spice latte,” the barista answered for Kris.

Adam took Kris’ cup and stole a sip, his eyes twinkling at Kris over the rim. “Mmm,” he said, without looking away. “Can I get a shot of the pumpkin spice syrup in it too?”

“Whatever you want,” the barista said. “And your name?”

“Belinda,” Adam said solemnly.

“Belinda,” the barista said, writing it down without so much as a blink. “One time-travelling non-coffee with added coffee coming up.”

“And a tall soy chai!” Adam added quickly.

After Adam had paid, they went down to the other end to wait. Kris couldn’t stop looking at him; it was so weird, he just looked like himself, just looked like Adam, but Kris had grown so used to his face being a part of every day that when they were together now he felt like he had to check Adam hadn’t changed, that his freckles hadn’t rearranged themselves when Kris wasn’t looking.

Adam let him look, in fact he took Kris by the shoulders and looked back, hard, frowning almost. It was maybe weird for them to stand there staring at each other in Starbucks, but that’s what they did until the barista came over and triumphantly announced Adam’s drinks.

Adam thanked her sweetly, with a huge smile, and together he and Kris walked outside. Adam held his frappuccino up when they got around the corner. “You want to try a sip of this?” he asked Kris.

“I really don’t,” said Kris, shuddering.

“Me neither,” said Adam, and dumped it in a trashcan as they walked by. “Can you imagine?”

Kris gaped at him. “You did that just to mess with the girl?”

“I wasn’t messing with her!” Adam said defensively. “She was awesome! I put fifty bucks in the tip jar.”

Kris laughed. “So what, you just like to keep the baristas of California on their toes?”

“I’m making sure standards haven’t slipped since I hung up my apron,” Adam grinned. He took a drink from his chai and hummed appreciatively into the cup. “So how’s post-tour life in LA treating you? Forgotten where you came from already? Trodden on any little people yet?”

“I’m pretty sure I am still the little people,” Kris said. “What about you? No hordes of paparazzi today?”

“I’m in disguise.”

“As Belinda.”

Adam laughed. “Right.”

They walked a while longer, talking about everything: their albums, how Adam was trying to fit back into his friends’ lives, how far away from Arkansas Kris felt sometimes, the audition Katy was going on, how adorable Drake was when he was training the new puppy to roll over. They rounded a corner, and Adam stopped suddenly. Kris stopped too. They stood in a shadow sipping their drinks and looking at each other some more.

“You are so the last person I expected to bump into,” Adam said again. He laughed a little. “How weird is that, that we can bump into each other now. I’m not used to you being far enough away for that.”

“It is weird,” said Kris, realizing at that precise moment that he felt exactly the same. “I can’t remember the last time that I didn’t know where you were.”

“Yes!” said Adam. “Exactly!”

They both laughed, and Kris started walking again when Adam did. When the studio came into view, Kris said, “So we should-” at the exact same time that Adam started, “If you’re not busy-”

“I’m not busy,” Kris said immediately.

Adam tipped his head back and drained the last of his chai, his throat working in three long gulps. He threw the cup away, and twisted his hands together a little. He looked at the floor for a long moment. “I don’t want this to happen,” he said quietly.

Kris throat ached suddenly, and he had to swallow hard. “Me neither,” he said eventually. He caught Adam’s sleeve in his fingertips.

Adam turned his hand over, and hooked his pinky with Kris’. “Don’t leave without me tonight,” he said. “Come find me, whatever time it is.”

“Or you find me,” Kris said, nodding hard. His cup creaked warningly in his hand and he made an effort to loosen his grip. “If you finish first.”

“I will,” Adam promised. “I will.”

They walked inside together, all the way until the top of the hallway where Kris was going left and Adam was going right. “So I’ll see you later,” Kris said. He touched Adam again, just quickly, on the back of his hand.

“You will,” Adam said firmly. He’d put his sunglasses back on.

“Okay,” said Kris. He smiled, and Adam returned it, and then they went their separate ways.


End file.
